The Choices We Make
by dhawthorne
Summary: The choices we make dictate the lives we lead, and this is a lesson Mary Poppins and Bert learn too well. Crossover with Upstairs, Downstairs.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

* * *

This fic is a prequel to my fanfic "Appearances".

* * *

'Mary! You have a visitor!' Mrs. Chater, the wardress of the orphanage, called up to her. With a smile Mary descended the stairs, lightly skipping across the floorboards. Although she was nearly twenty, there were several matters in which she was still childlike – not the least of which was her enjoyment of life.

At twenty years old Mary Poppins was certainly a beauty – smooth, unblemished skin; thick, dark hair; and large, sparkling blue eyes. Her mouth often curved into a radiant smile, and never more than when she was with her dearest friend and companion, Bert.

They had known each other for years – they grew up together. When they were younger they never were apart – it was always Mary-and-Bert, and when they grew up it was no different. Though Bert had left the orphanage two years ago, while Mary remained to assist, he still returned to see her often. She always looked forward to their time together – but today, however, was different – he was wearing a uniform.

'Bert!' she cried out, upset. 'What have you done?'

'I've joined up, Mary,' he said calmly.

'But why? Why?'

'I need to make a life for myself,' he said, 'and the Army won't be half bad. I'm off to South Africa at the end of the week.'

'South Africa! No, you can't!' she protested, feeling tears well up in her eyes. 'It's too dangerous, too far away!'

'I must, Mary! That's where they're sending me. It's the Second Boer War now, you know, and they need all the help they can get.'

'But I don't want you to go!' she protested, frowning. 'What will I do without you? And what if you get hurt?'

'I'll write you every week,' he promised, straightening his new uniform almost self-consciously. 'Cheer up, Mary! I'm finally doing something with my life! And I'll be fine, I promise you.'

'But you could stay here with _me_!' she cried out, her heart breaking. 'I want you to stay. And then there will be no chance of you getting injured.'

'I'll be back, Mary, you know I will.'

'But you'll be so far away!' she protested, 'South Africa is such a long way away.'

'I know it is, Mary, but I have to go. I've signed up – I can't desert now.'

She flung her arms around his neck, sobbing. 'Whatever will I do without you, Bert? You're my best friend.'

He slipped gentle fingers beneath her chin, tilting it up so that he could look into her eyes. 'And you are mine, Mary.'

Time seemed to move slowly in those few moments. Mary, her arms still around his neck, looked up into his eyes, finding something that had not been there previously. Slowly, deliberately, he bent down and met her lips with his.

It was like nothing she'd ever experienced, never imagined experiencing... whenever she indulged in fantasies of marriage and a family of her own, her husband had always been... faceless, somehow. But now a million dreams and hopes for the future filled her mind, all with Bert. It was as though his kiss had opened a new door, an entirely new future that had always been there, though she had never known.

They broke apart, Mary clutching desperately at him to remain upright. She felt as though every cliché about love had come true in that moment.

'Bert –' she whispered, eyes full of wonder. 'Bert, I –'

He laid a finger on her lips. 'Shh, darling,' he whispered quietly. 'Don't say it yet. I must go now, but I'll write.'

Before she could say anything more, he pressed another brief kiss to her lips and left, his tall form quickly disappearing amongst the crush of London traffic.

She wandered into the house, up to her room, barely avoiding the children underfoot. Half in a daze as she was, she managed to reach her small bedroom without incident.

What had happened? Had she really kissed Bert, her best friend of so many years? And why was her heart still fluttering madly?

How long had she been in love with him? How long had she harboured such deep, secret feelings for her best friend? Why had it taken her so long to realise it?

If only, only she had realised what she felt sooner! Then he never would have joined the Army – they could be married by now, she could have been expecting their first child... if only she had realised what she felt – had always felt – for her best friend.

What if he didn't come back from South Africa? Would she ever recover? She knew in her heart of hearts that if he died, she would die with him. She couldn't live without him – she never could, even before she fell in love with him.

Oh, why did he have to go? Why was he leaving her? Her heart was broken, and he had yet left London! How would she survive when he did leave, when he left London for South Africa, for his most probable death?

He must return – he must. She would die without him.

***

Three days later, she laid in her room, weeping. She had given her excuses to her employer, begging off her morning duties on account of a headache. It was a lie, of course, and her employer knew that – but she was compassionate, allowing Mary to keep up her façade of illness. Mrs. Chater had promised she would not be disturbed, but despite her promises, Mary heard a knock sound at her door.

'Come in,' she called, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone. She hurriedly wiped away her tears as the door opened.

'Why are you crying, Mary mine?' her visitor said.

She looked up in shock, her tears turning to smiles as she saw her visitor.

'Bert!' she cried out, flinging her arms around him. 'Oh, Bert, you're here!'

'I couldn't leave without saying goodbye, Mary,' he said, enjoying the feel of her body against his. He had wanted this for so long, and if he did die in South Africa, at least he would have the memory of holding her to sustain him in his final moments.

'Bert, don't leave me,' she whispered. 'Please, don't leave me.'

He looked down at her, his eyes sad. 'D'you think I want to, Mary? I don't want to leave you, but I have to go.'

'I love you, Bert,' she said, her voice a whisper as she clung to him. 'Stay with me, please.'

He kissed her lips lightly, once, twice, and then again. 'I would, Mary, you know I would... but I must go.'

'If you must, you must,' she said reluctantly, unwilling to let him go. 'But stay safe, my darling.'

He smiled down at her, allowing himself to hold her against him once more. As he guided her to her bed, they sat down, his arms still around her. 'Mary, I wish... I wish I weren't going.'

'Why did you join?' she asked him, her voice desperate.

'I wanted you to be proud of me,' he admitted reluctantly. 'As a lieutenant, I can... I can ask you to marry me without shame.' He produced a plain gold band that he held out to her as an offering. 'Could – could you ever accept me as a husband?'

She gazed at him, smiling softly for the first time all day. 'Of course I could!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, Bert, I love you.'

He slipped the ring onto her finger as he kissed her again.

'I must go,' he whispered, 'but know that I love you.'

With one final kiss, he took his leave, pausing at the door to take one last look at her.

'Stay safe, my darling,' she whispered after he left. 'I love you.'

***

That evening, in his small bunk on the ship, Bert looked out the porthole to the dark sea beyond. Already they were far from London, and already he missed Mary. Mary... his fiancée. He never thought the day would come where he would have her promise to marry him.

He had loved her for years – first as a friend, his dearest and most beloved friend, and then, when they were both fifteen, he fell in love with her.

He remembered that day perfectly – they had both saved up their money for months to take the train to Brighton for the day. The day was perfect – bright, sunny – and they had a wonderful time at the ocean. Neither of them had ever seen the ocean before, and they both delighted in the ocean spray, the feel of the salt water against their skin.

It was after, in their changing caravan, that he fell in love with her. She had just slipped off the rather voluminous bathing dress and slipped back on her corset when she asked him to lace up the stays. It was a task he performed for her often enough, but today – with her hair still wet, a single bead of water tracing the delicate lines of neck – it was so different. Her breathing was heavy and her skin flushed from her exertions in the water, and it seemed that his eyes were opened for the first time to how beautiful she was.

She smiled her gratitude to him, and with that smile captured his heart forever.

It was at that moment he swore he would make himself worthy of her love. And, during the past few years, he had done his best. But only now, now that he had a commission in the Army, had he felt worthy enough to propose. And she had said yes!

But now he regretted his decision to enter the Army, for it would take him so far away from her. He only hoped that he would see her soon.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

***

A/N: I couldn't resist a little crossover with one of my favourite television shows, _Upstairs, Downstairs_... I don't own _Up, Down_ or _Mary Poppins_.

***

It was cold – winter in South Africa, though it was June – but even in winter the sun seemed to burn with an intensity far brighter than anything Bert had ever experienced in London. As he wrapped his jacket closer around his shoulders, he shivered slightly. With a sigh, he settled back against the wall of the barracks, Mary's latest letter in hand.

'My darling Bert,' it began, her familiar handwriting curving delicately across the page, 'it is very cold here – one of the coldest winters on record. The snow simply piles up, and it is so difficult to keep the streets clear.

'I miss you, my dearest. I look for you around every corner, hear your voice and your laughter wherever I go. Every night I dream of you, and every day is filled with my thoughts of what will be. I cannot wait until you return – and you _will_ return, I am sure of it – but until you do I shall not rest easily. I hope that you are safe, dear, and will return soon. The papers say that the Boer War will soon be over, and then you can come home.

'I have seen a rather peculiar man around the orphanage recently – he goes out of his way to ask me about the weather and other innocuous subjects. It's as though he knows me... though that couldn't be true. Don't worry – he's rather odd, but shan't do me any harm.

Take care, darling, and know that I am thinking of you every minute of every day. Happy 1899, my love. I hope that, by the end of the year, you will have returned to me.

All my love,

Mary.'

Mary... oh, how he missed her! He longed for her every day, wished every moment to be back in London with her.

He hoped the war would be over soon. He hadn't seen much fighting, thankfully, but what he had seen had been brutal. He did not understand why they were fighting the Boers – all they wanted was to make a life for themselves, and were defending their lives the best way they knew how. Already they had lost so much, all over the Britishers' greed, their lust for gold.

It was June already – it had taken over six months for Mary's letter to reach him – yet, despite what her letter said, the war did not seem to be winding down, not in the slightest. They were pressing on regardless, pushing deeper and deeper into the countryside.

His conscience nagged at him – what he was doing was wrong, absolutely wrong. No one deserved to have their home burned in front of them, no one deserved to be driven away from the life they had made for themselves. How ironic that he was making his living destroying other peoples!

'Alfred!' his commanding officer barked as he entered the room. Bert jumped up from his bed and saluted.

'Sir!'

'Get packing – we're marching to Pretoria tonight.'

With a sinking feeling in his chest, he nodded, tucking Mary's letter away to re-read later.

***

In London, Mary woke up to the sound of the bells in the cathedral chiming five o'clock. Quickly she wrapped her dressing gown around her and ran downstairs. The mail had come the afternoon previous, but she had been so busy with the children she had not had time to see if there was anything for her.

And there was – two letters resting on the table in the vestibule, both addressed to her. She seized them joyfully, returning to her room with her bounty.

The first letter was marked with a South African stamp. She set the other letter aside as she opened it eagerly, albeit carefully.

'My darling Mary,

I miss you so much. It is hot here – summer when it should be winter! We have been doing relatively little fighting, though we press on regardless. It is not so bad, though unfortunately it does not seem I will be returning to London any time soon.

I hope you are well, my love – I miss you every second of every day. I long for you, my love, and I promise that when I return, I shall never leave you again.

Happy 1899! I wish I were there to kiss you at midnight.

Bert.'

She held the letter to her heart for a moment, as she would hold Bert if he were there beside her. Oh, how she missed him! In the nine months since he had left, she had fallen even more deeply in love with him than ever, despite the lack of letters. But she could not – would not complain – complaining would do nothing to help the post to come faster, nor would complaining bring him back to her any faster. She would have to carry on as usual, waiting for the day when they could finally be together once more.

Setting the letter aside, she picked up the second one that had come for her. The hand that had addressed the envelope was quite unfamiliar to her, and she opened it with some curiosity.

'Dear Miss Poppins,' it began, spidery writing filling the page, 'You do not know me, though I know of you. I am looking for a governess for my youngest child, Elizabeth. I have spoken to Mrs. Chater, an acquaintance, about securing a suitable governess, and she mentioned that your skills with children are beyond compare. I would like to offer you employment for an indefinite period, with a salary of £30 a year, plus room and board.

'If you would be so obliged as to respond at your convenience to the following address:

The Bellamy Residence

165 Eaton Place,

Belgravia, London.

Thank you,

Lady Marjorie.'

A thrill shot through Mary as she finished the letter. A governess for the Bellamys? It was beyond her wildest dreams! She had never thought to leave the orphanage, let alone seek out a position as a nanny or governess... but she could! She was educated – her deceased parents had endowed her with enough money to pay school fees at a boarding school in the country – and she had been at the top of her class. What she knew would certainly be enough to educate Elizabeth.

Putting pen to paper, she drafted out an acceptance of Lady Marjorie's offer. Yes, she would have to say goodbye to the only home she'd ever known, but it was time to go. She would be able to save so much money, be able to add to the money sent to her at the end of every month by the Army. And then, as soon as Bert returned, they could marry. She could not wait to write and tell Bert of their good fortune!


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

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A/N: For more information about Upstairs, Downstairs and the residents of 165 Eaton Place, please visit my LiveJournal (username: diana_hawthorne) and click on the tag "the choices we make".

***

Three days later, having taken her leave from the orphanage, Mary Poppins found herself in front of the rather imposing Bellamy family residence – 165 Eaton Place. She had been firmly instructed NOT to ring the front doorbell, but go down the steps to the servants' entrance, which she did. Knocking at the door, she set down her bag to wait for someone to answer.

She did not have to wait long; a few moments later a slim brunette woman about five years older than Mary opened the door.

'May I help you?' she asked brusquely.

'I'm the new governess,' Mary said bravely, standing up straight as the woman took in her appearance.

'Come in, then,' she said, her tone a bit softer and certainly more companionable. Mary stepped into the house, following the woman through to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a whirl of activity – an older woman with greying hair was at the stove, while another girl mixed something in a bowl.

'Martha, my girl, you've got to mix that sauce faster than that!' the older woman exclaimed, 'it won't be fit to be eaten at the rate you're going.'

'Yes, Mrs. Bridges,' the girl said meekly, beginning to mix faster.

'Mrs. Bridges, this is the new governess... what's your name?' she asked, turning to Mary.

'Mary Poppins,' she replied.

'This is Mary Poppins,' said the younger woman importantly.

'Rose, show her up to her room, then take her in to her Ladyship,' a man in the corner said. Mary jumped slightly as she noticed him for the first time.

'Right away, Mr. Hudson,' she said, leading Mary up the back stairs.

'I'm Rose Buck,' she said to Mary, 'I have just been appointed head house parlour maid. Mr. Hudson is the butler and Mrs. Bridges is the cook. Martha is the kitchen maid, and Kate, who you haven't met yet, is the under house parlour maid. Miss Roberts is Lady Marjorie's lady's maid – watch out for her. Then there's Alfred, the footman, and Mr. Pearce, the chauffeur.'

Rose opened a door and led Mary down the hallway. The furnishings were sumptuous, and Mary inwardly gaped at the splendour. At the far end of the hallway, Rose opened the door and stepped aside to let Mary in.

'This is your room,' Rose said. 'This door,' she indicated the door in the opposite wall, 'leads to the schoolroom, where you will be giving Miss Elizabeth her lessons.' Mary nodded, setting down her bag, as Rose continued her monologue. 'You'll take your breakfast and supper in your room, but you'll have lunch with Miss Elizabeth in the dining room.'

Mary nodded again, setting her bag down at the foot of the bed.

'You can unpack later,' Rose said. 'I'll take you to Lady Marjorie now.'

Her heart pounding, Mary followed Rose down the stairs once more to the morning room.

Rose knocked briskly at the door, opening it a moment later.

'The new governess, my lady,' Rose said, pushing Mary forward slightly. She had no choice but to step further into the room.

'Will there be anything else, my lady?' Rose asked.

'Yes, please send Elizabeth down,' she said. Rose nodded and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

Lady Marjorie was a very beautiful woman, sprawling elegantly on the large Chesterfield sofa. Mary stood stock-still in awe as she looked at the beautiful room. Never before had she seen anything like the rich elegance of the morning room, or the quiet beauty of Lady Marjorie.

'So you are Mary Poppins,' Lady Marjorie said, 'please sit down.'

Mary did, perching on the edge of a nearby armchair.

'Has Rose already shown you your room and instructed you on where you are to take your meals?' she asked.

'Yes, my lady,' Mary replied nervously.

'Good. Breakfast will be promptly at eight, and at nine o'clock you will begin Elizabeth's lessons. At noon you both will have lunch downstairs, and resume lessons until tea at five. Tea will be served in the school room. After tea, Elizabeth will work on her needlepoint or embroidery, or read a book, until supper. You may join her. After supper you are free for the evening. On Saturdays she has lessons in the mornings, from ten until noon, and then the rest of the day is your own. On Sundays you may accompany us to church or make your own arrangements for worship. Is that clear?' she asked.

'Yes, my lady,' Mary replied, hoping she would remember everything.

'Very well. Elizabeth's schedule is in the schoolroom, along with her books. Lessons begin tomorrow.'

As she finished her sentence, the door opened. A girl of about eleven entered. She looked rather wild, her hair unruly. There was a book clasped in her hands, which were stained with ink.

'Yes, Mother?' she asked, plopping herself down on the sofa.

'Elizabeth, dear, sit up straight,' Lady Marjorie said sharply. Elizabeth's back straightened infinitesimally. 'This is your new governess, Miss Poppins.'

'Hello,' Elizabeth said.

'Elizabeth!' her mother rebuked her, 'where are your manners?'

Elizabeth sighed exasperatedly. 'Hello, Miss Poppins,' she said politely, albeit with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

'Hello, Miss Elizabeth,' Mary replied. She was intrigued by this slip of a girl, one who so obviously did not fit into her parents' world.

'Have you seen the school room?' Elizabeth asked her.

'No, not yet,' Mary replied.

'Why don't you show Miss Poppins the school room before tea?' Lady Marjorie suggested.

'All right.' Elizabeth hopped up from the sofa.

Mary stood up from the armchair and looked at Lady Marjorie. She nodded, and Mary followed Elizabeth up the stairs.

'Where did Mother find you?' she asked as they climbed the stairs.

'Through an acquaintance,' Mary replied obliquely. She was not ashamed of her past, but did not feel that Elizabeth needed to know her life story.

'Oh,' Elizabeth said. 'Where did you go to school?'

'West Heath,' Mary replied.

Elizabeth looked suitably impressed. 'I wanted to go away to school, but Mother said I must have a governess instead. Two of them have already given up,' she boasted.

Mary studied her for a moment. She would certainly be a difficult child to teach, but she would succeed.

'Here's the schoolroom,' Elizabeth said, flinging open the door. The room was a good size, the shelves filled with both books and toys. There were two smaller desks facing a larger one, in addition to a blackboard that held the remains of a math problem. On the larger desk, which Mary presumed was hers, she found a neatly-written schedule.

Elizabeth watched Mary curiously as she read the schedule – they day began with literature, then history, and finally maths. Finally Mary looked up from the schedule.

'We'll begin promptly at nine o'clock,' Mary said, 'please don't be late.'

Elizabeth nodded, skipping out of the room when she was dismissed. Mary sat down at the desk and sighed. She certainly had her work cut out for her!


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Mary spent the rest of the time before tea unpacking her few belongings – she was lucky that she had a few presentable dresses of good quality. Hanging them up carefully, she then opened the schoolroom door and stepped inside.

Everything was in meticulous order, without even a speck of dust on the desks. Mary sat down at her desk, picking up the schedule left for her.

There was another piece of paper beneath it, detailing where Elizabeth was in her studies. Mary picked that up instead, setting the schedule aside, and studied it.

She had progressed relatively far in her literature studies, as well as in her history, though not nearly so far in mathematics. Maths had always been Mary's best subject, though she excelled in her other subjects too.

Elizabeth would need a lot of help to become the proper society woman her parents expected – and, if she was honest with herself, she did not believe she ever would fit into the role they wanted. But hopefully, with a bit of hard work, she would help Elizabeth be accepted by her family.

Mary set the schedule aside as the grandfather clock in the corner struck five – time for tea. She did not know where she was supposed to be, so she found the stairs Rose showed her earlier and walked downstairs to the servant's hall.

Several people were sitting around the table – Mr. Hudson, Mrs. Bridges, and Martha were the only people Mary recognised.

'Oh, Miss Poppins!' Mr. Hudson exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.

The rest of the table looked at her curiously.

'I – I thought it would be easier on all of you if I took my tea down here,' she said, her voice faltering a bit. 'If that's all right.'

Mrs. Bridges' heart went out to the poor girl – she was trembling slightly, and though she acted proud, Mrs. Bridges could tell that she was really a kind person.

'Of course it is, dear,' she said. 'Martha, pour Miss Poppins a cup of tea. Miss Poppins, please sit down.'

Mary smiled at her, taking the seat indicated.

'Thank you,' she said shyly as Martha handed her a cup of tea.

'Help yourself to some cake, Miss Poppins,' Mrs. Bridges urged.

Mary did as Mrs. Bridges suggested.

'Miss Poppins, eh?' said a rather gruff looking man, leering at her. 'You're the new governess?'

'Leave her be, Alfred,' Rose said, coming down the stairs. 'She's better than the likes of you.'

Alfred sneered and went back to his cup of tea.

'Why don't you tell us about yourself?' Martha suggested.

'Martha, where are your manners?' Mrs. Bridges snapped. 'Can't you see that Miss Poppins is enjoying her tea?'

Mary blushed, not used to having so much fuss made over her, and stared into her cup of tea. Rose sat down next to her with her own cup of tea.

'You met Miss Elizabeth, didn't you?' Rose said, 'She's a sweet girl, isn't she?'

Mary nodded, looking up at Rose. 'She seems to be very clever,' Mary replied.

'She's a right spoiled brat, she is,' Alfred said.

'Alfred!' Mr. Hudson stood up, his placid face contorted with anger. 'You will not speak of your employers that way.'

'Sorry, Mr. Hudson,' Alfred said, not sounding sorry at all.

Mrs. Bridges laid her hand on Hudson's arm, urging him to sit back down, which he did.

Mary quickly finished her tea, sensing the animosity rippling through the room.

'Is there anything I could do to help?' she asked, addressing Mrs. Bridges.

'No, dear,' Mrs. Bridges said, 'Martha will do the dishes.'

'I'll bring up your dinner tonight,' Rose said.

'Thank you, Rose,' Mary said, standing up. 'Thank you for tea, Mr. Hudson, Mrs. Bridges,' she said, nodding to them. With a final smile, she left the servants' hall and mounted the stairs to the third floor.

***

The rest of the evening passed peacefully – Mary drafted a lesson plan for the next day, mainly to test what Elizabeth knew. And after her plans for the next day were finished, she drafted a letter to Bert.

'Dear Bert,

As I wrote you earlier, I have accepted a job at the Bellamy residence. Sir Richard Bellamy is a member of Parliament, and Lady Marjorie is the daughter of the Earl of Southwold. I have not yet met Sir Richard, though I have met Lady Marjorie. Elizabeth, the girl I shall instruct, seems nice albeit a bit wild. I hope I shall do well by her.

Most of the servants are very kind – there's Mr. Hudson, the butler, who is quite strict by courteous; Mrs. Bridges, the cook, who is very talented (her cake must be tasted to be believed!) and kind; Rose, the head house parlour maid, who seems very kind; and quite a few others. 165 Eaton Place is a very grand house – six floors! The furnishings are unlike anything I've ever seen, and even its inhabitants seem like something out of a novel. I shall be quite content here while I wait for you, though I miss you desperately.

I cannot wait for you to return, my love. I need you so much, and want you so desperately. Soon, though, we will be together once more and forever.

Your Mary.'

Pressing a kiss to the letter, she placed it in an envelope and sealed it, setting it aside to mail in the morning.

As she picked up her lesson plan once more, a knock sounded at her door.

'Come in,' Mary said, and the door opened. Rose stepped in, carrying a dinner tray.

'Here you are, Miss Poppins,' she said, laying the tray on the desk. 'Will you need anything else?'

Mary smiled. 'No, thank you Rose.'

Rose smiled slightly. 'Just ring the bell when you're finished, and I'll collect your tray.'

'I can bring it down,' Mary said.

Rose shook her head firmly. 'That's not your place. I'll be back up to collect your tray when you ring for me, and then I'll bring up your breakfast in the morning.'

'Thank you, Rose,' Mary said. Rose turned and left, leaving Mary to her dinner and thoughts.

***

The next morning, after breakfast, Mary entered the schoolroom. Elizabeth was nowhere to be found, but she rushed in just as the clock struck nine.

Without even an apology, Elizabeth plopped down in her chair.

'What are we doing first, then?' she asked, a touch of insolence in her voice.

'First, Miss Elizabeth,' Mary began, 'We will start with some tests to determine where you are in your lessons.'

'Doesn't your lesson plan state what I've accomplished?' Elizabeth asked, leaning back in her chair.

'If you're not careful, you might fall,' she said, and as the words left her mouth, Elizabeth did indeed fall backwards. Mary's mouth opened in astonishment as a sheepish Elizabeth scrambled up from the floor, her face flushed bright red.

They settled back to their lessons as though nothing had happened, though Elizabeth applied herself with more vigour than she was accustomed, and Mary continued to ponder the strange events of the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

The days passed productively, Elizabeth still too in awe of Mary's prediction to cause much fuss inside the schoolroom or outside of it. Both Lady Marjorie and Sir Richard were very pleased with her change of attitude, as well as her accelerated progress in her academics.

***

'It seems you have done quite well by Miss Poppins,' Lady Marjorie told Elizabeth over dinner. 'We have much to be thankful for.'

'Yes,' said Sir Richard, 'she has worked wonders.'

Elizabeth merely shifted uncomfortably in her seat, resolving that she would not be quite as good for her governess from now on.

***

The next morning, nine o'clock came and went without sight of Elizabeth. Mary Poppins sat impatiently at her desk for half an hour before walking to the bell cord. She pulled it and returned to her seat. A few minutes later, Rose entered the room.

'Yes, Miss Poppins?' she said.

'Rose, do you know if Miss Elizabeth is feeling all right?' she asked, 'she does not appear to be inclined to do her lessons this morning.'

Rose nodded. 'She was feeling fine earlier this morning,' Rose said, 'I'll fetch her.'

Mary waited for ten minutes more before a suitably chastised Elizabeth entered the room, cheeks flushed red.

'Well, Miss Elizabeth,' Mary said, standing. 'Were you not feeling well this morning?'

Elizabeth did not respond, yet sat down at her desk and opened her books.

'Have you lost your voice?' Mary persisted.

She looked up at her governess, a frown marring her face. 'No, I did not.'

'I would appreciate it if, in the future, you were on time for your lessons,' Mary said, 'I should not like to tell your parents about your behaviour.'

Elizabeth's frown grew more pronounced. 'I don't care,' she pouted petulantly.

Mary's features softened, sensing something amiss. 'What is it, Miss Elizabeth?' she asked.

Elizabeth turned away from her, angry tears spilling down her face. 'I'm tired of their disappointment!' she said. 'Mother is always so ashamed, and Father always listens to Mother. I hate it!'

She wiped away her tears ashamedly, looking away from Mary. Her heart went out to the poor girl and handed her a handkerchief. Elizabeth took it, albeit rather reluctantly, and mopped her eyes, returning the now damp handkerchief to Mary. She took it and tucked it back into her pocket. Finally they began their lesson.

When lunch was served, Elizabeth broke the silence that had stolen over them.

'Miss Poppins?' she asked.

'Yes, Miss Elizabeth?'

'Thank you.'

Mary smiled. 'You're welcome.'

***

Once more Mary and Elizabeth settled into a steady, comfortable routine, despite Elizabeth's occasional outbursts. Two months after Mary first arrived at 165 Eaton Place, she finally met James Bellamy.

James Bellamy, Elizabeth's brother, was a famous person in 165 Eaton Place. It was clear that he was Lady Marjorie's favourite, and many of the servants also had a soft spot for the boy. He was sixteen years old and at boarding school. Elizabeth spoke of him often and fondly, telling Mary so much about him that she felt as though she knew him.

James had spent the best part of the summer at his grandparents' estate at Southwold, but returned to London for a few weeks before his school year began once more.

His arrival caused great excitement to spread throughout the house – downstairs, Mrs. Bridges prepared his favourite foods and Rose cleaned and aired out his room. Upstairs Lady Marjorie and Sir Richard prepared a dinner party in honour of his visit.

To her great surprise, Elizabeth insisted that Mary be included in the dinner party – and to her ever greater surprise, the Bellamys agreed.

'It will be beneficial if Elizabeth has someone to talk to,' Richard said when convincing his wife to honour his daughter's request.

'Oh, all right,' she sighed. Lady Marjorie was far less sympathetic to her servants than her husband – her husband was originally from a lower social class, and thus thought more often of the servants. Lady Marjorie was too well-bred to worry herself about them.

The dinner party was held the night that James returned, before Mary had the chance to meet him. Lady Marjorie insisted that Elizabeth work at her studies in the morning, though she had the afternoon free to spend with her brother. Mary took advantage of her leisure time to read her newest letter from Bert, dated April 22nd.

'My darling Mary,

Happy Easter, though I'm sure it will be well into summer when you finally receive this letter.

I miss you, love. It has been too long since we were last together, far too long. It does not look as though I will be returning any time soon – we are stationed indefinitely just outside Pretoria. It is miserable here, Mary. The Army is... not what I expected at all. I thought there would be glory in serving my country, but I realise now that I am only serving the wishes of those who wish to line their pockets with gold. I wish that I had never joined.'

Mary's heart broke for him, and, unrealised to her, a tear slipped down her cheek. She continued reading.

'But if I hadn't joined, then I never would have asked you to marry me. Joining the Army was for the best.

I love you, Mary – I've love you for years, will never stop loving you. I would willingly suffer so much more as long as I will be with you in the end.

I hope you are well, my darling. Take care and I will see you as soon as I can.

Bert.'

She held the letter to her heart. 'Oh, my poor darling!' she whispered aloud. Tears cascaded down her face. Oh, if only she had realised she loved him before he enlisted! They would be happy now, happy and together. They might have children by now – children of their very own! And while Mary did like living at 165 Eaton Place, it was not her home. No luxury in the world could replace the simple pleasure of being in Bert's arms.

The clock in the school room struck seven, and Mary stood up, wiping her tears away. She gently folded the letter and replaced it in its envelope before turning to the wardrobe.

***

At seven-thirty precisely Mary found herself seated next to Elizabeth Bellamy and Lady Marjorie. Across from her sat an exceptionally handsome boy who she recognised from Elizabeth's description – James Bellamy. He was watching her with undisguised interest, ignoring the twittering coming from his mother's closest friend, Lady Prudence. On his other side was Bunny Newbury, who was James's best friend.

The dinner party was awkward – Mary felt incredibly out of place, even more so because James continued to stare at her throughout the meal. Lady Marjorie looked quite unhappy that her favourite child was paying so much attention to the governess, Elizabeth watched her brother and her governess, and the rest of the guests chattered on inanely.

Afterwards, when the always-efficient servants had cleared the plates, Mary found herself sandwiched between James and a wall in the morning room. The rest of the guests were focussed on Lady Marjorie, who had just sat down to the piano.

'So, you're the governess my sister's told me so much about,' James said, looking at her.

Mary shifted slightly. 'Yes, I am. She's making excellent progress, especially in maths...' she inwardly winced – she sounded like an utter fool!

James was smiling coolly at her. 'Elizabeth always was a smart girl,' he said.

Her cheeks were burning, and she could no longer bear to be in this situation. A most unlikely saviour appeared.

'Miss Poppins,' said Elizabeth, walking over to them. 'Mother says I'm to go to bed. Will you walk me up, please?'

Mary nodded gratefully. 'Good-bye, Master James,' she said, and left before waiting for a response.

As they walked up the stairs, Mary heard the clock chime ten o'clock. She looked at Elizabeth, confused.

'It's rather early for you to go to bed, isn't it?' Mary asked. While Elizabeth did typically go to bed early, she was allowed to stay up later for dinner parties and the like.

Elizabeth smiled slightly. 'I was bored,' she admitted, 'and besides, you didn't look as though you were enjoying yourself. As you were my guest, I feel obligated to entertain you.'

Mary shot her a questioning look, but seeing no malice in her features, she allowed herself to smile at the girl.

'Thank you,' she said. 'That's very thoughtful of you.'

Elizabeth offered her a smile as they reached her room. 'Good night, Miss Poppins.'

'Good night, Miss Elizabeth,' Mary replied, turning to go back downstairs again.

'Oh, Miss Poppins?' Elizabeth called out.

Mary turned. 'Yes?'

'You don't have to go back downstairs – I told Mother you had a headache and she said you might rest in your room instead.'

Mary fought back a relieved smile. 'It's not right to tell lies, Miss Elizabeth,' she said, then smiled. 'But thank you.'

Mary watched as Elizabeth entered her room, then entered her own room, beginning to undress. Elizabeth was certainly maturing – while she still held onto a few of her bad habits, she was growing up very nicely. She hoped that her own children with Bert would be as kind as Elizabeth was becoming.

Bert... oh, how she missed him. She hoped he was all right, hoped he would return to her safely! It was torture living without him – an entirely new torture, for she had never experienced life without her Bert before, even before she realised she was in love with him. And it hurt...

She slipped between the covers of her bed and began to cry softly, thinking of Bert.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

***

Dedicated to the wonderful, the fabulous, the incredibly talented lj user="artistic_angle", in thanks for her invaluable assistance on the "Appearances" fanmix by making the stunning cover. THANK YOU!!!

***

The next morning Mary took her breakfast in her room as usual, then entered the schoolroom to prepare for her lessons with Elizabeth. To her great surprise, there was a note resting atop her lesson plans. Though she tried to look indifferent, despite the fact there was no one else in the room, she failed miserably, her curiosity betrayed in the way she immediately snatched up the note.

'Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And oft' is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd:

But thy eternal Summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.'

She set the paper down, a slight giggle escaping her lips. It was ridiculous that Master James Bellamy, child of a Member of Parliament and the Duke of Southwold's daughter, to be quoting Shakespeare to her, the governess for his younger sister! And especially as she was engaged… Her laughter stopped suddenly as she remembered Bert. How could she be laughing when he was in danger?

Angry at herself, she crumpled James's note and threw it into the nursery fire. She was still watching it burn when Elizabeth came in, ready for her lessons.

***

Bert sat outdoors – it was the first really warm day they'd had in months, and, as they were still stationed in a lovely part of country just outside of Pretoria, he took full advantage of the fine weather. He took his most recent letter from Mary out of his jacket pocket and opened it.

'My darling Bert,

I miss you so much, love. I know that, by now, you must be tired of reading it, but it's true. I've never loved anyone as I love you, nor have I ever felt this desperate longing before.

I wish you were home.

Mary.'

He looked off into the horizon, staring into the blue sky. He wished he was home too – he desired it more than anything else in the world. To be in the streets of London once more… it was something he longed for more than anything. He wanted to be in London, with Mary… oh, how he longed for her!

Shots rang out suddenly, Bert leaping to his feet. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Soldiers spilled out of the buildings, guns loaded, as a group of angry Boers stormed the camp, one headed straight towards him. He didn't even have time to put Mary's letter away before he collapsed on the ground, bleeding.

***

Back in London, Mary and Elizabeth were returning from an outing in the park. It was Saturday and, after their morning lessons, Elizabeth had requested that Mary accompany her, a task she discharged with pleasure. As they rang the doorbell of 165 Eaton Place, Mr. Hudson greeted them with a slightly disapproving expression.

'You have a telegram, Miss Poppins,' he sniffed, clearly of the opinion that those employed by the Bellamys should not be receiving telegrams, the most ostentatious form of communication.

Mary's face paled as Mr. Hudson handed her the envelope, attracting even Elizabeth's notice.

'Miss Poppins, what's wrong?' she asked as Mary stumbled over to a chair. Mary did not respond, her hands shaking as she opened the envelope.

'LIEUTENANT BERT ALFRED WAS INJURED IN BATTLE STOP SENT TO HOSPITAL STOP SHOULDER WOUND COMMA SHIPPING BACK TO LONDON ON 5 SEPTEMBER 1900 STOP'

Mary let out a low, desperate cry as the telegram slipped from her fingers, landing on the polished floor below. Both Hudson and Elizabeth rushed to her, Elizabeth reaching her governess first.

While Elizabeth held Mary's hand, Hudson retrieved the telegram, reading it. Elizabeth made soothing noises, stroking the back of Mary's hand, as she sobbed.

'Miss Poppins, let me help you to your rooms,' Hudson said, helping her up. She clung to his arm as they walked up the stairs. Elizabeth watched them go, so absorbed in her curiosity at what had caused her governess to break down that she did not notice the return of her brother.

'What's wrong, Elizabeth?' he asked her, laying a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and looked at him.

'Miss Poppins received a telegram and collapsed,' Elizabeth told her brother, not noticing how his face blanched.

'Is she all right? What did it say?' he asked her.

She looked at him, confused. 'I don't know. And why does it matter to you? She's not your governess.'

He ignored her, rushing up the stairs to Mary's room.

Hudson was just leaving her room when James arrived.

'Yes, Master James?' Hudson said imperiously as he closed the door to Mary's room.

'What happened?' James demanded.

'Oh, it's nothing that won't be solved in its own time,' Hudson said.

'May I see her?' James asked, peering curiously around Hudson.

'Miss Poppins is resting at the moment,' said Hudson stiffly. 'I trust you won't disturb her.'

Reluctantly, James nodded, walking down the hallway to his bedroom.

***

How could this have happened? How could he be injured. Oh, thank God he had not died! But he still might… oh, she could not bear to think of it! If only she could go to him, take care of him! But no, she was stuck here in London, waiting for his return.

She would leave the employ of the Bellamys when he returned, she decided. She could take care of him herself – she had quite a lot of nursing experience in the years she worked at the orphanage. It would be better than resigning him to the care of an indifferent hospital staff…

Her mind raced forward with her plans. Did she have enough money to find a flat, to afford not to work? She hoped that she did – and she could always take in washing if they needed money. She was resourceful; she would make it work.

***

He woke for the first time since he was shot, disconcerted to find himself in a makeshift hospital, nurses milling about.

'Lieutenant Alfred! You're awake!' a rather pretty woman exclaimed.

'Where am I? What happened?' he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.

'You're in the Cape Town hospital,' she said. 'You were shot through the shoulder, and transferred from Pretoria to this hospital. We managed to extract the bullet, and you're scheduled to return to London in two weeks' time.

Bert gingerly tried to move his arm, wincing in pain.

'You might not be able to move it well for quite some time, though you will eventually regain full use of it. You were very lucky, Lieutenant – the wound was not infected, and while the wound is quite serious, you will recover.'

He let out a deep sigh, sagging back against the pillows. At least he would be returning to London, to Mary… he wondered if she knew what had happened.

'Nurse?' he called out, and she turned back to him.

'Yes, Lieutenant Alfred?'

'D'you think I could have some paper and a pen?' he asked. 'I'd like to write a letter.'

She smiled. 'Of course,' she said. When she returned, Bert began to write, wincing as his shoulder throbbed.

'Dearest Mary,

I am on my way home.

Bert.'


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

* * *

A/N: This is the last update for a few days, as I'm going back to university and will be busy. Enjoy!

* * *

Later that evening, Mary was called into the morning room by Lady Marjorie and Sir Richard.

'We heard of today's incident,' Lady Marjorie began without preamble.

'Yes, my lady – I do apologise,' Mary said meekly.

'Is your fiancé gravely injured?' Sir Richard asked.

'I am not sure,' she admitted. 'The telegram was brief, alerting me to his injury and his return to London, but nothing else.'

'I hope you understand that I cannot have my daughter exposed to such scenes,' Lady Marjorie said.

'I do, my lady,' she said. 'And I apologise. I came as quite a great shock to me.'

'We understand,' Sir Richard replied, to Lady Marjorie's intense annoyance.

'But see that it doesn't happen again,' Lady Marjorie said, her tone pure steel. Mary nodded, and Lady Marjorie exited the room gracefully, leaving Sir Richard and Mary alone.

'Sir Richard,' Mary began, 'when my fiancé returns, I would like to leave my position here.'

He regarded her gravely. 'Are you unhappy here, Miss Poppins?' he asked, 'is that why you wish to leave?'

'No, that's not it at all,' she said. 'I just... I just don't want my fiancé to be put into an Army hospital. I will take care of him myself.'

'Have you had any experience with tending for an injured soldier before?' he asked her.

She shook her head. 'But I've taken care of children before – the principle is the same, isn't it?'

He shook his head. 'Not remotely. I'm sure you'd do your best, but I'm afraid it just wouldn't be enough.'

A tear slipped down her cheek. I can't resign him to an Army hospital,' she whispered.

'It might not have to come to that,' Sir Richard said. 'I'll see what I can do to help you.'

She smiled. 'Thank you – thank you so much.'

***

She received a telegram from Bert two months later – he was in Egypt, after travelling up through Rhodesia and Kenya.

MARY ARM IS ALMOST HEALED WILL FIND JOB WHEN I RETURN NOVEMBER 18 STOP I LOVE YOU STOP SIGNED BERT ALFRED

The evening she received it she showed it to Sir Richard. He had arranged for a place for him at the newest Army hospital – one with some of the best doctors in their fields. However, it appeared that Bert would not need to stay in hospital.

'That is good news,' Sir Richard said when she showed him the telegram.

'I do appreciate all the work you did for us, though,' she said softly. 'Thank you.'

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, dismissing her. She rose from her seat and returned to her room, excited for her fiancé's return.

***

A month later, after a long and arduous journey through British-held Africa, across the Mediterranean, and through Europe, Bert made it to London. He was utterly exhausted, and, though his wound had almost completely healed, it still ached when he used his left arm.

As he exited the ship, his rucksack slung over his good shoulder, his eyes scanned the crowd waiting at the docks. As he spied a dark-haired woman in the midst of the crowd, he stopped on the gangway, much to the protest of the people behind him. As he moved forward once again, his eyes locked on her figure, he felt a great weight rise from his shoulders. He was home.

***

She scanned the crowd, searching for Bert. Where was he? Surely he should have emerged by now... Just as she thought that, a tall, dark-haired man stepped onto the gangway, searching for someone. It was him. As he spotted her, he stopped, the people behind him trying to push him forward. Finally he moved, his eyes locked with hers all the while.

***

They were almost shy as he joined her, his year-long absence causing awkwardness where awkwardness had never been before.

'Hello,' she said, her voice breaking the spell. With one fluid movement he dropped his bag and wrapped her in his embrace, ignoring the ache in his shoulder as he kissed her.

Despite the crowds of people around them, they continued to kiss, Mary allowing him to deepen it as she wrapped her arms tighter around him.

Finally they broke the kiss, though his arms were still around her.

'Darling,' she breathed, looking at him as though she could not believe he was there. 'Oh, Bert, you're home.'

'That I am, my love,' he said, kissing her again.

When they broke apart again, she smiled up at him.

'We really ought to get going,' she said. 'I have to be back at the Bellamys' before nine tonight.'

'Who are the Bellamys?' he asked as they began walking.

'My employers,' she said, 'you didn't get my letters about them?'

He shook his head.

'The Bellamys – Sir Richard and Lady Marjorie – are a very well-to-do family who have hired me to be governess for their daughter Elizabeth,' Mary explained. 'I've been with them some months now. It's quite a satisfactory position.'

He nodded.

'I've found you a flat, Bert,' she said, slipping hand into his. 'It's not too terribly far from Eaton Place.'

He smiled down at her. 'Good.'

They hailed a cab, and Mary gave the driver Bert's new address. It didn't take long to reach his flat, and, as soon as they exited the cab, Mary took his hand and led him upstairs.

As soon as the door to his flat closed behind them, he dropped his bag, pulling him into a even deeper kiss than the one at the docks. He backed up through the flat, tumbling backwards onto the bed, Mary landing on top of him.

'Bert,' she whispered, as his hands began to hike up her skirts. 'Oh, Bert...'

He rolled her onto her back, spreading her legs gently as he settled himself between them. She could feel his erection pressing against him, and moaned loudly.

'Mary!' he groaned loudly and she felt the vibrations of his voice ripple through her. 'Mary, Mary, my love...'

He began kissing her neck, slipping his hands further beneath her skirts.

'Why do you wear so many undergarments?' he sighed in frustration. 'A man could die of desire before he finished undressing you!'

She began to giggle, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him, still giggling. He began to laugh as well, his voice rumbling through his body and against hers.

'I love you,' he whispered into her ear, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. 'Oh, I love you.'

'Darling, darling, darling,' she whispered. 'Oh, my love, my darling...'

She kissed him passionately, hands tangling in his dark hair as he began to unbutton the top of her dress, kissing the tops of her breasts.

'Ooh,' she sighed, holding her head against her. 'Oh, Bert, that feels so good...'

A moan slipped from her lips as he cupped her breasts in her hands, albeit through her corset.

'Oh, Bert, Bert... oh, we can't do this...' she moaned, pushing him away reluctantly.

He fell back against the pillows, his arm still draped over her waist. He pulled her close to him, her hip pressing against his erection.

'I'm sorry, Bert,' she whispered, turning to face him. She laid a hand on his cheek, closing her eyes for a moment before she opened them again. 'I want to, I do... but not yet. After we're married.'

'We'll marry when I get a job,' he said, kissing the palm of her hand. 'As soon as I find a job.'

She smiled, kissing him lightly. 'I love you.'

'And I love you.'


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mary's twenty-first birthday arrived two weeks later, on December first. The day dawned cold and clear, though snow lay thickly on the ground. It was a Saturday, so after Elizabeth's afternoon lessons, Mary had the rest of the afternoon free.

After she changed out of her 'governess' dress, she rushed down the stairs and out of 165 Eaton Place, passing Hudson as she went. She hurried to the corner, hopping on the bus, and got off four stops later, a block from Bert's flat.

He was waiting for her at the bus stop, a huge grin on his face. She threw her arms around him.

'Happy birthday, love,' he said, kissing her lightly.

She beamed up at him. 'Thank you.'

They walked back to his flat, her arm tucked under his, as they chatted quietly.

As soon as they reached his flat and closed the door behind them, he took her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

'Happy birthday,' he said as she smiled.

'Thank you.'

'I have some good news, darling,' he said, leading her over to the bed. She sat down, leaning back against the pillows.

'Yes?' she asked, smiling up at him.

'I found a job.'

She let out an exclamation of glee, flinging her arms around him. 'Oh, Bert, that's wonderful! Darling, I'm so pleased!'

He grinned at her. 'I'm a clerk at a law office. I don't make much at the moment, but I've been promised a raise if I work hard – and it's enough to live on. So we can get married soon, if you'd like.'

'Oh, yes,' she sighed. 'Yes, darling. When?'

'Two months from now?' he suggested.

She smiled and nodded. 'On February first,' she said.

'On February first,' he echoed, and kissed her again.

***

When she returned to 165 Eaton Place, she floated up the stairs to her room, feeling as though she was on a cloud. It had been the best birthday of her life – spending time with Bert, after being deprived of his company, his kisses, for so long... it was as though heaven had come to earth, and she was grateful.

As she opened the door to her room, she spied a letter lying on the bed. With an amused sigh, she picked it up, sitting down at her desk to read it. It had no postmark, and only her name was written on the envelope. She assumed it was from James, though it did not look like the writing that had adorned the many notes he had sent her. And so she was utterly surprised at what the letter said when she did open it.

'Dear Miss Poppins,' it began, delicate script neatly curving across the page. 'I know you do not know me, but I am an acquaintance of Mrs. Chater. I have some information about your family I thought you would like to know. If you would be so kind as to meet me at my home tomorrow, I should very much like to meet you. My address is on the back of this page.

Yours most sincerely,

A.P.'

Mary nearly laughed aloud, despite the seriousness of the letter. This was certainly an elaborate prank on Master James's part. But was this letter from him? It didn't sound like him, and it certainly wasn't his writing. Who could he have enlisted to help him, if this was from him? And how did he know about the orphanage?

Biting her lip anxiously, she decided that she must see what this was about, even if it was a prank.

***

The next morning, after attending church, Mary made her way to the address written on the back of her letter. It took her some time to find it, finally discovering the house tucked away in a small, quiet London square. There was a park nearby, snow laying in drifts on the ground.

The house she now stood in front of was painted white, as was 165 Eaton Place, though it was considerably smaller. It was a neat house, well kept-up, and that only sparked Mary's curiosity further.

Taking a deep breath, she bravely mounted the steps, the letter still clutched tightly in her hand. Mary knocked firmly on the door, which was immediately opened by a tall, slender woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to herself.

'Hello, Miss Poppins,' the woman said. 'Please do come in.'

Mary followed the woman into the house, seating herself on the chair indicated. The woman sat down across from her.

'Are you – did you send me this letter?' Mary blurted out, producing the now-crumpled piece of paper.

The woman nodded. 'I'm Aileen Poppins,' she said.

'Poppins?' Mary's voice was high-pitched and strained. 'Did you say Poppins?'

'I did,' replied the woman. 'I'm your mother, Mary.'

Mary stood up. 'You can't be my mother. My parents are dead.'

'Sit down, Mary,' the woman urged.

Mary remained standing. 'I don't believe you're my mother.'

'Your full name is Mary Rose Poppins; you were born December first, 1879. I left you with Mrs. Chater, the wardress of the Durham Orphanage, on May thirty-first, 1881.'

Mary sat down, shocked.

'Mary, I had to give you up,' the woman whispered. 'I didn't want to, but I had to.'

'Oh, really?' she asked. 'It obviously wasn't because you lacked the money, if this house is to be taken at face value. Didn't – didn't you want me?' Her lower lip trembled, and Mary bit down on it.

'Of course I did!' Aileen cried, taking Mary's hand. Mary flinched. 'Mary... that time was so confusing, so complicated... more than you know.'

'Then explain it to me!' she cried out, tears running down her face. 'Explain why you abandoned me!'

'Mary, has anything... unexplainable ever happened to you?' Aileen asked. 'Have you ever wished for something and then have it come to pass?'

Even as Mary shook her head, memories rushed back to her – of events that had seemed to be coincidences at the time, but apparently were not...

'Are you sure?' Aileen's soothing voice enquired.

'And what if they have?' Mary asked defiantly. 'They were just coincidences.'

'Mary, they weren't just coincidences. It was Magic.'

Silence reigned for several moments, then... 'Magic?' Mary scoffed. 'It doesn't exist.'

Aileen's smile was sad. 'Oh, but it does, Mary. And you do have Magic.'

'Prove it,' Mary demanded. She had not been very polite to this woman – her mother – but how could she be? The woman was mad, deranged... torturing her with impossibilities and her insane beliefs.

But as Aileen snapped her fingers, the flowers in the vase adorning the nearby table flying into her hand, Mary could only believe that what Aileen said was the truth – Magic did exist, and she had it.

'But that doesn't explain why you gave me up!' Mary exclaimed.

'I had to, Mary!'

'Why?'

Aileen looked away. 'Mary, there are many things you do not know. You were not supposed to be born in the first place, but as I married before my twenty-first birthday, and was pregnant by the time I turned twenty-one, the Council had no choice but to allow me to have you.'

'Who are the Council? And why did it matter?'

'There are rules governing our kind, Mary,' Aileen began, though she was interrupted by Mary.

'Our kind? What do you mean?'

'People with Magic, Mary,' she said. 'The Council rules over us. On your twenty-first birthday, you are made aware of your gifts, and given a choice.'

Mary felt her heart sink. 'A choice?'

Aileen nodded. 'Between Magic and love.'


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

'What... what do you mean?' Mary asked, her heart sinking.

Aileen's eyes were sad as she replied, 'You have to choose between Magic – living forever, never growing old, having the power to do good in the world, learning about your family – and love.'

'My family?' Mary asked.

'Yes, your family,' Aileen replied. 'Myself and your other relatives.'

'My father?' Mary asked.

Aileen shook her head. 'He... he died, several years ago,' she said, her voice catching a bit as she explained. 'He refused to accept the powers granted to him when I made my choice.'

'You chose Magic?' Mary asked.

Aileen nodded. 'How could I not? You were ill, darling, and the Magic could heal you. I had to make my choice... but in saving you I was forced to lose you.'

Mary began to sob, burying her face in her hands. So many questions had been answered, but now there were so many new questions.

'Mary...' Aileen began, and stopped when Mary threw her arms around her mother for the first time. Aileen rocked her back and forth like a child, crooning to her, wishing she could make everything go away.

When Mary had finally stopped crying, she looked up at her mother. 'Who are they?'

'The Council? They are the oldest of our Kind, dedicated to keeping the order of our world. They have served for centuries – as long as anyone can remember.'

'But what gives them the right to ask this of me? How do they expect me to make such a decision?'

'I don't know, Mary,' her mother whispered. 'That's just the way it's been, time out of mind.'

'It's not fair!' she said.

'I know, my darling,' Aileen whispered, stroking Mary's hair soothingly. 'I know.'

'I can't choose,' Mary whispered. 'I don't know what to choose.'

'You don't have to decide right now, love. The Council has given you until February first.'

Mary sat bolt upright. 'No! They can't do this to me!' She stood up, beginning to pace back and forth.

'What is it, Mary?'

'Bert and I are to be married that day.' She sunk back into her chair, head in her hands.

'Who's Bert?' Aileen asked.

'My fiancé,' Mary replied. 'He was at the orphanage with me. And he only just returned from South Africa.'

'Oh, Mary...' Aileen's heart broke for her daughter.

'I can't lose him again,' Mary whispered, 'but I don't want to lose you, either.'

There was nothing Aileen could say to ease Mary's heartache, nothing she could do to take away the choice Mary had to make.

'So I have to choose between Bert and you?' Mary asked, her voice sad.

Aileen nodded, shedding a silent tear for the decision her daughter would have to make.

'But will Bert... will Bert still stay mortal? Will he be granted powers as well?'

Aileen shook her head. 'Unfortunately, my darling, he will not. He's not your husband – that was the only reason the Council offered your father Magic.'

'But what if I marry him before I make my decision?' Mary asked, desperate to find a compromise.

'The Council will be angry. They will erase your memory of everything related to me, to your Magic, and take your Magic away.'

'I can't do this,' she whispered. 'I can't.'

'And I would give everything to spare you from this decision,' Aileen whispered. 'Anything.'

Mary leaned into her mother's embrace and cried.

***

It was later that afternoon that Mary found herself at the door to Bert's flat, knocking on it frantically.

'Just a mo,'' he called out, opening the door to reveal his rather frantic fiancée. 'Mary, what's wrong?'

She flung himself into his arms, tears falling down her face. 'Oh, Bert, Bert!' she cried out.

He led her into the flat, sitting her down on the bed. 'Mary, love, what's wrong?'

Her voice trembled as she told him, 'I found my mother.'

Bert sat down heavily. 'Your mother? I thought your parents were dead, Mary.'

'My father is, but my mother...' Mary suppressed a sob, 'my mother is not.'

'Then where was she, all these years?' Bert asked.

Mary turned tear-filled eyes up to him. 'Bert, you must promise to believe me, as unbelievable as this may sound,' she said. 'Please.'

'Of course, Mary,' he replied unquestioningly.

'My mother gave me up because she was forced to. She's... well, I... I don't know how to explain it!'

'Just try, Mary,' he soothed her, holding her closer.

'She's Magic,' Mary whispered, after a momentary pause. 'And I have to choose between you and the rest of my family – and my Magic.'

Bert stared at her, completely taken aback at her words. He knew she was telling the truth, as unbelievable as it sounded – sincerity rang in every syllable of her tale. But how could she be forced to choose?

'Who's making you choose, my love?' he asked her, his voice tender and soothing.

'The Council,' Mary murmured. 'They are in charge of my kind, according to my mother. They are the ones I have to tell my final decision – on February first.'

The mere mention of their wedding date sent a sharp pain through his heart. It was real – until that moment he had clung to a faint hope that she would sit up and laugh, the tears staining her face a result of excessive mirth rather than sadness. But it was not true, but as she looked into his eyes, he knew that this horrible, nightmarish tale was.

His heart screamed out – to lose her once more, after he had finally returned to her, would be a fate worse than death. 'Mary...' he began, desperate.

'I don't know what to do, Bert!' she cried out suddenly. 'I want to be with you – I've waited so long to be with you – but I want to know my family.'

The internal debate raging wild within her was clearly evident on her face, and Bert could not bear to make her decision any harder than it already was.

'I love you, Mary,' he whispered, 'and I'll support whatever decision you make.'

She wrapped her trembling arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Mary returned to the Bellamy residence later that night, pale and shaking. After claiming a slight cold, she escaped to her room, where Rose brought up her supper on a tray. She ate sparingly, pushing the tray away when she was finished. Ringing the bell, she waited until Rose came up to fetch her still-full tray before falling into a restless sleep.

The next morning she was wan, listless, barely able to apply her ever-wandering attention to the task at hand. Elizabeth noticed her distraction, but said nothing, sensing that she did not want to speak.

The days continued much in the same vein, Mary's appetite and happiness declining as the days passed. An entire month had gone by, her decision weighing on her far more than she had ever expected. On the days she spent with Bert, busy with his new job, she was lacklustre in responding to his kisses, barely able to look at him, let alone touch him.

He knew what she was going through – the pain that she suffered in trying to make her decision – but he suffered too. As every day passed without her decision, he, too, grew more withdrawn. Neither of them were happy, and still her decision was left unmade.

***

There were two weeks left, and Mary was still no closer to the decision she needed to make. There was a longing within her to learn of her family, to be able to know her mother... but she wanted to be a mother herself, Bert's wife, wanted to live with him and love him for the rest of her life.

But if she decided to accept her Magic, then she would finally know her family, after so many years of searching! And they she would live forever... though he would not.

What if she could persuade the Council to grant him powers too? If they would, it would make her decision so much easier. Then would never lose each other, even if they couldn't marry, even if they couldn't have children.

She wrote a letter to her mother and received a response the next day. And on Sunday, instead of seeing Bert after church, she went to her mother's house.

'Are you sure you want to do this, Mary?' her mother asked.

Mary nodded. 'I have to do this.'

With a sad sigh, Aileen nodded, leading Mary into the parlour, where They were waiting.

There were three of them – two men and one woman. Both looked young, so very young, but there was an ancient wisdom in their eyes.

'Mary Poppins?' the woman said.

Mary nodded.

'And you requested an audience with us?' one of the men said.

She nodded again.

'Why did you wish to speak with us?' This came from the woman again.

Mary took a deep breath and spoke. 'I cannot make the decision.'

The Council stared at her in silence for several minutes before the woman spoke again – she seemed to be the leader of the group.

'If you do not make the decision, we will make it for you,' she said.

'That's not FAIR!' Mary shouted, standing up. The Council looked at her in shock. 'I refuse to make the decision – I'm to be married in two weeks' time, and I refuse to give my fiancé and my family up!'

There was silence after she finished.

'Please excuse us for a moment, Mary,' the woman said finally. Mary nodded, cheeks flaming bright red, as she exited the room, her mother following behind her.

After what seemed like hours, they were called back in.

'We have a proposal to make,' the woman said. 'Sit down, Mary.'

Mary did as she was told, her eyes fixed on the Council.

'We shall give you a choice – we shall allow you your Magic, and grant your fiancé Magic as well, in exchange for you assisting us in taking care of children in unhappy households. Your duty will be to improve the lives of their families, leaving only when your duty is done.'

One of the men spoke. 'And if you do not accept this choice, your memory of these events will be erased and your Magic be taken from you.'

'You have until February first to decide,' the woman said, compassion lacing her tones.

'Thank you,' Mary said, standing. With a slight curtsey to the Council, she exited the room and walked along the streets of London to Bert's flat.

When she reached his flat, she took a deep breath before climbing up the stairs. He was waiting for her, opening the door soon after she knocked.

'Bert,' she breathed, sounding more like her old self than she had in weeks. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

'Mary.' He stepped back, allowing her to enter his flat.

'Bert, I saw the Council today,' she said as soon as she settled herself on the bed. 'They've given me an ultimatum.'

He sat down next to her, taking her hands in his. 'And?'

'I will retain my Magic, and you will gain your own Magic, in exchange for helping children of unhappy homes, or lose my memory of these events – and my mother.'

'And you have decided?' he asked her. He knew she had – knew the decision she had made.

'Yes. I will accept my Magic.'

With a sigh, Bert held her against him so that she could not see the tears he shed.

'All right,' he whispered. 'All right.'

***

It was February first – the day they should have been married. Mary and Bert made her way slowly to her mother's house, where the Council was already in attendance. Though she had made her decision, she still regretted losing the chance to have children with Bert, to be married to Bert.

As though he could tell what she was thinking, he squeezed her hand tightly, pausing for a moment in their journey to her mother's house.

'I love you, Mary,' he whispered. 'I will always love you.'

'And I love you, Bert, with all my heart.'

They continued walking, finally arriving at her mother's now-familiar home, stepping into the hallway and then into the parlour.

'I have made my decision,' she said, 'I have chosen my Magic.'


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

As soon as Mary uttered her decision, the bonds holding back her Magic were broken. She felt an intense light-headedness as the Magic seemed to bubble up within her, spreading throughout her body. It was the most delicious feeling, seeming to continue forever, until it finally slowed, then stopped.

She opened her eyes, and saw the world for the first time.

For the first time since her infancy she saw colours in the way they were meant to be seen – more vibrant, almost as though they, too, were alive. She heard the Wind whispering to her, heard the Sunlight express its pleasure at her newly-rediscovered knowledge, saw the blue, blue sky seem to grow even bluer just for her.

And then she turned to Bert, her breath taken away as she looked at him.

When she first realised she loved him, she saw him as a man for the first time. But now... now, it was different. He was still a man, of course, but there was a handsomeness, a youth, that was present in his features now that had not been there since he returned from South Africa. It was as though the Boer War had never touched him. He smiled at her, the first real smile since this decision was forced upon her.

It was as though no-one else was present as Mary stepped closer to him, resting her hands on his chest. He kissed her forehead chastely, feeling a tingle ripple through him as his lips touched her skin.

'Goodbye, Mary,' the female member of the Council said, breaking the moment of silence that had stolen over the room.

Mary nodded, unable to speak, and slipped her hand into Bert's, leaving her mother's house, returning to his flat.

'Do you have to be back at the Bellamys tonight?' he asked her, his voice low.

She shook her head, a bubble of excitement welling up within her. 'No. The Bellamys are at Southwold this week, celebrating Miss Elizabeth's birthday.'

'Good,' he said, squeezing her hand as they continued to walk to his flat.

'I am handing in my notice when they return,' Mary continued, 'my mother has requested it. I have much to learn before I begin my duties.'

He nodded, his smile dimming as he was reminded of the conditions of her choice.

'But tonight...' she whispered, a smile gracing her face, 'tonight is our wedding night.'

He started slightly, then looked down at her. 'Mary, do you mean...'

She nodded. 'What is there to stop us anymore? Can we not take happiness in what we have so long desired? The Council has only said we may not marry – but as for the other... privileges of husband and wife – we may indulge in those.'

He laid a gentle hand on her cheek, looking down into her eyes.

'Are you certain, Mary?' he asked, relieved when she nodded.

'I have never been more certain of anything in my life.'

He beamed down at her, seizing her in his embrace, bringing his lips down to meet hers.

Mary would have gasped, had her lips not been occupied in other, more pleasant, tasks. The kiss was something incredibly new and arousing – her arms found their way around his waist, pressing her hips against his as the kiss continued. It seemed as though they reached the heavens, Magic meeting Magic for the first time, weaving an unbreakable bond between them.

Finally they broke apart, Mary clinging to him in order to remain upright.

'Mary,' he whispered, 'let's go home.'

She smiled, nodding her agreement, as a warm glow that had nothing to do with their kiss spread through her. Home... she had a home now.

***

It was another two hours before they returned to his flat, having stopped to purchase supper. They did not wish to be distracted later in the evening by hunger, and Bert did not believe he could restrain himself if they returned to his flat first.

But finally they did return, and Bert made sure to bolt the door firmly behind them as they entered. And then she was in his arms, kissing him desperately, her hands working frantically to undo the many buttons of his shirt.

His hands, too, were busy unlacing the bodice of her dress, slipping it off her shoulders as it loosened, then fell to the floor. His shirt quickly joined her dress without another thought.

He stepped back for a moment, taking in the way she looked – her soft skin perfectly smooth and unblemished, the rise of her breasts, the slenderness of her waist... he could not wait to divest her of the rest of her clothes, and, stepping forward again, he began the familiar task of assisting her with her corset.

It soon lay on the ground, along with the rest of her undergarments, and then, with an uncharacteristic burst of shyness, she blushed as his hungry eyes took in her appearance. He could not help but stare at her, gaping at the body that seemed almost beyond human perfection – the slender waist, the narrow hips, the long, long legs, the perfectly-shaped breasts – all of which had not yet been – would never be – touched by time. He felt rather inadequate standing in front of Mary, in front of this woman who looked beyond human imperfection.

'Mary,' he whispered, 'you're so beautiful.'

Her blush deepened as she looked at him, blue eyes meeting brown.

'I love you, Bert,' she whispered, moving into his embrace. 'I love you... and I want you.'

He swallowed nervously. 'Are you sure, Mary?' he asked her.

'I'm sure,' she said.

He nodded, allowing the last of his clothing to join hers on the floor, Mary watching with eager eyes.

And then he took her into his arms, skin meeting skin for the first time, she paused for a moment before tilting her face up to his for a kiss. She wanted to remember this, wanted always to remember the feel of her skin against his, the rhythm of his breathing, the complexity of his body... she looked up at him, lips meeting lips in a kiss far sweeter than any before.

She was dark like the night, and as Bert's bones seemed to burn with liquid fire, he sank back onto the bed, pulling Mary down on top of him. Her long, dark hair fell like a curtain around them, shielding them from the rest of the world.

Her eyes burned with desire, dark blue gazing into nearly-black eyes as she positioned herself above him. With a slight moan, she sank down on him, provoking a deep groan from her lover.

She paused for a moment in her movements, adjusting herself to the unusual sensation of being so intimately joined to another person. But she could not wait any longer – not as he ran his fingertips along her spine, causing her back to arch deliciously, not as he panted his desire to her, not as he gripped her hips tightly, encouraging her in her movements.

'Darling!' she cried out as he bucked his hips against her. 'Oh, darling, darling, darling...'

He slipped one hand to the junction of their bodies, his fingers feeling, caressing, provoking another moan from his lover. Her head fell back, revealing the whiteness of her throat, as her limbs tensed and a loud cry slipped from her rosy-red lips. She trembled, desire overwhelming her as she dug her fingernails into his chest, as the world seemed to spin. And then everything was upside-down as he flipped her onto her back, pumping into her earnestly, an animal groan releasing as he finally spilled into her.

The earth stopped spinning, and all was still. Her arm was thrown across him, couched snugly as she was against him, his arms holding her close.

He did not speak – neither did she. There was nothing to be said that couldn't wait – there was nothing to be said that had not been said in their actions.

As he pressed a gentle kiss of gratitude against her lips, she relaxed into his embrace. The slight pressure of her body against his said more than 'I love you' would ever say, and his protective embrace was the perfect response to her unsaid words.

The moon and stars shone down upon the two sleeping lovers, bathing them in their silvery glow. And as they slept, they watched over them, protecting them, loving them.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was just dawn when Mary stirred, waking from the deepest, most peaceful slumber of her life. The sunlight slid through the gaps of the curtains, whispering good morning to her. She smiled as its warm glow ran up her naked skin, caressing her in much the same manner as Bert had the night previous. She closed her eyes as its touch became physical, only opening them again when she felt Bert's hands on her inner thighs.

He grinned up at her from his position between her legs. 'Good morning, love,' he said, propping himself up by his elbows. 'Did you sleep well?'

She nodded, unable to articulate words as he traced patterns on the inside of her thigh.

'Mmm...' she whispered, falling back against the pillows, 'that feels nice.'

'Does it?' he asked rhetorically, sliding his hands further upward, following with his lips. 'Does it really?'

Her hands found their way to his hair; tangling in it, as she writhed desperately beneath his touch.

'I love you, I do,' she moaned loudly, his kisses reaching the junction of her thighs. 'Oh!'

He persisted in his caresses, rewarded by her moans and cries.

'Oh, please, please,' she begged him, unable to be more coherent than that. 'Please, darling, please...'

He slid his hands up still further, moving to the outside of her thighs, resting his cheek against her abdomen. She relaxed back against the pillows, her arousal ebbing for the moment in this comfortable position. But as he moved again, his lips kissing the soft curves of her breasts, breathing heavily as he rested his weight against her.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, her back arching as he slid into her.

'Oh, my love,' he whispered, 'my love, my darling, my life...'

'Bert!'

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as he filled her. Finally she fell back against the pillows, Bert falling on top of her.

'Oh, my love,' he whispered again, stroking her hair. 'My love, my darling.'

'My Bert,' she whispered, a note of possessiveness creeping into her tone. 'My Bert.'

'My Mary,' he countered, kissing her lips lightly. 'I love you.'

'And I love you,' she whispered in response. 'I always have, and I always will.'

***

After spending a week of mornings with her mother, learning how to control her Magic, and afternoons and nights with Bert, she and the Bellamys returned to 165 Eaton Place. As soon as she was able, she requested an audience with Lady Marjorie.

'Yes, Miss Poppins?' Lady Marjorie asked lazily, lounging elegantly on the large Chesterfield sofa.

Mary took a deep breath. 'I would like to hand in a month's notice,' she said calmly.

That got Lady Marjorie's attention. She sat straight up, staring at Mary.

'Why?' she asked her.

Mary had discussed what she should say with her mother, finally deciding to tell the truth – well, part of it, at least.

'I've found my mother,' Mary said. 'I'd like to get to know her.'

Lady Marjorie nodded, still a bit stunned by Mary's sudden revelation. 'Of course,' she said. 'Thank you for your services,' she finished, dismissing her.

Mary nodded, exiting the room, exiting the room and walking up the stairs to tell Miss Elizabeth of her departure.

***

'I don't want you to go!' Elizabeth Bellamy exclaimed, throwing her arms around Mary's waist. Her bags were set down by the servants' entrance. 'Please don't leave me.'

Mary closed her eyes for a moment, a tear sliding down her cheek. 'I'm sorry, Miss Elizabeth, but I must go.'

'Will you write?' she asked.

Mary pulled back from her embrace, looking down at Elizabeth. 'I can't promise,' she said. 'But if you need me, I'll come.'

'Goodbye, Miss Poppins,' she said. 'Thank you.'

'Goodbye, Miss Elizabeth.'

A chorus of good-byes echoes as Mary embraced Mrs. Bridges and Rose, before taking her leave of 165 Eaton Place for the last time.

That evening, she lay in Bert's arms.

'What will happen now, darling?' he asked her, stroking her hair. 'Where will you go, what will you do?'

'I'm to stay with my mother for several months,' Mary explained. 'She is still training me in the use of my Magic – and in my duties. I have much to learn – about Magic, about children... so many things. I will be busy.'

'I won't,' he sighed bitterly.'

'What do you mean, my darling?' she asked.

'I lost my job,' he said.

'Bert! What happened?'

'I couldn't bear it anymore,' he said, 'it was torture, being stuck behind a desk all day.'

'What will you do, then?'

He grinned slightly. 'Well, I wanted a job where I could make my own hours. So I think I'll become a chimney sweep – or a screever – or sell matches. Anything that strikes my fancy. That way, when you are able to take your days off, I will be too.'

She laughed delightedly. 'Oh, my darling, I do love you! You are so wonderful – so very wonderful.'

'I want to be with you,' Bert said, suddenly serious. 'That's all I've ever wanted. And this way, at least, we'll still have the evenings. We will we still have the evenings, won't we?' he asked her, his chin resting on her shoulder. She pulled his arms tighter around her.

'Yes,' she replied. 'We will still have the evenings. And my days off, and holidays – and every other moment we can spare.'

'And this?' he whispered, slipping a hand between her legs. 'Will we still have this?'

She moaned slightly. 'Oh, yes,' she said, turning in his embrace to face him. 'Yes, we'll still have this. We'll always have this.' She kissed him gently, passionately.

He returned her kiss, groaning as she pressed a soft hand against him, fingers exploring, caressing, moving upward as her hands finally looped around his neck, pulling him close to her. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, and, as she wrapped one leg around his hips, she began to make love to him again.

'I love you,' she whispered afterwards, lying in his arms. 'I love you so much. I will always love you.'

'And I will always love you,' he replied, tenderly pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. She gazed up at him adoringly. 'I will always love you.'


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

'I have to go,' Mary said the next morning, reluctantly extricating herself from his embrace. He pulled her back into bed, rolling her onto her back.

'Mary, love, do you really have to leave?' he asked her, beginning to trail kisses down her neck. 'You can't stay for a few more hours?'

She moaned as he began to hitch up her skirts. 'Oh, Bert... Bert, I can't be late!'

'Just a few minutes, love,' he whispered. 'Just a few minutes...'

She pushed him away, albeit reluctantly, and climbed out of bed. 'I'll be back this evening, darling.'

'All right,' he sighed reluctantly. 'I love you, dear.'

She rested her hand on his cheek, bending down to kiss his lips lightly. 'I love you too.'

With one last kiss to his lips, she left, walking to her mother's house.

She arrived a half an hour later, ready to begin her lessons. She was looking forward to spending time with her mother, though she wished she could be in bed with Bert. But finally she would be able to learn from her mother, spend time with her, get to know her – and her family.

Her mother was waiting in the parlour for her, standing to embrace her daughter when Mary was shown into the room.

'Hello, Mary,' she said, holding her back so that she could look at her. 'You look well. And how is Bert?'

Mary blushed slightly. 'Bert is well,' she replied. 'He sends his love.'

Aileen smiled slightly. 'Are you ready for your first lesson?' she asked, and Mary nodded. 'Please sit down,' she said, and Mary did.

'Your first lesson is the most important,' Aileen began. 'And one of the most difficult lessons you will learn. Practically perfect people never permit sentiment to muddle your thinking – and you are practically perfect.'

She stared at her mother for several moments. 'What do you mean?' she finally said.

'Your Magic makes you perfect – or practically perfect, anyway. And you will get attached to your charges – it's inevitable, Mary – and I don't want you to be hurt when you have to leave the family.'

'Leave them?'

Aileen nodded. 'You can't stay with a family forever – you need to help more than just one. You'll know when it's time to leave, and you'll know where your next station will be.'

'How?'

Aileen stood up. 'Stay here for a moment,' she said, exiting the room. Mary watched her retreating figure thoughtfully, curious at what her mother was doing. When Aileen returned she was carrying a long, narrow package.

'Here you go, Mary darling,' Aileen said, handing her the box. Mary tore away the paper eagerly, revealing a black umbrella. The handle was a delicately-carved parrot head, and as Mary gingerly touched it, it opened its eyes. She let out a slight shriek, the umbrella flying halfway across the room, as her mother and the parrot laughed.

'Mum!' she cried out. 'What is that?'

'He's your new guide,' Aileen said. 'He will help you in your tasks.'

'Pleased to meet you, Miss Mary,' the parrot said. 'I am Archibald.'

'Pleased to meet you,' she said, her voice faint as she reigned in her surprise.

'I am to help guide you, teach you,' Archibald explained.

'Thank you,' she replied.

'I'll be there for you to answer any question,' he said, 'to tell you where you will go, to tell you when it is time to leave.'

She nodded.

'I'll be upstairs,' he said, and, to Mary's great astonishment, the umbrella flew up the stairs on its own accord.

'Think of him as your birthday present – twenty one years of birthday presents.'

'Thank you, Mum,' Mary said. 'I appreciate it – I do.'

Aileen's eyes gazed upon her sadly. 'I'm sorry you had to decide between Bert and me,' she said quietly. 'I am truly sorry. I tried to spare you that choice by giving you up, hoping that if you were raised away from us it would be different. But it made no difference. I did try, darling.'

Tears came to Mary's eyes. 'It's all right, Mum. If you had kept me with you, I would never have met Bert... and even if I can't marry him, at least I'll have eternity to spend my days off with him.'

Aileen smiled slightly. 'Every Second Tuesday,' she said. 'That's what you should tell your employers. Every Second Tuesday.'

Mary smiled. 'Isn't that a bit too many days off for a nanny?' she asked.

'You're not just a nanny, my dear – you have powers your employers could only dream of. It is your responsibility to ensure that they never find out that you have Magic. The children might know – if fact, it might be easier if they do – but never the parents. Children are much less restricted by convention, they believe in things that have been forgotten by their parents.

'Have you ever wondered why you can hear the Wind now? Talk to the Sun, converse with the animals? You used to be able to, darling – everyone did. We all had Magic at one part of our lives. But then we grow up, we forget... except Us. Not when we regain our Magic.

'But children... you need to show them your Magic, teach them that not everything is what it seems. Open their eyes to those possibilities, teach them about the World, even if, at the end of it all, you must tell them they imagined it all. Leave a sign so that they believe – let them have a childhood, let them learn to use their imaginations. Teach them to become good men and women, to make the world a better place.'

'And what if I fail?' Mary asked nervously. 'What if I reveal my Magic to their parents, or the children tell them? And what if I don't make them happier? Oh, Mum, what will happen then?'

'You'll do fine, my darling,' she said. 'You're practically perfect, after all,' she said with a slight smile. 'And I believe in you, dear; I'm proud of you. You will do brilliantly.'

'Thank you, Mum,' Mary whispered. 'I hope I can live up to your expectations.'

'You will,' Aileen said. 'You are my daughter, after all.' She embraced her daughter.

'I love you, Mum. I hope I can make you proud.'

'You will, darling. I know you will.'


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Several months went by, Mary's lessons progressing far faster than her mother had anticipated. It was time for her to meet the Hamadryad, her Cousin, the Lord of the Jungle. Soon it would be time for her to begin her first position and Aileen only hoped it would be in London. Then, perhaps, she would be able to see her daughter, after so many long years without her.

But tonight – their last night before Mary would have to see the world – there was someone Mary had to meet... and something Mary had to remember.

'Hello, Mother,' Mary said cheerfully, stepping into the room. Aileen rose from her chair and emerged from her memories, taking Mary by hand, leading her into parlour.

The Hamadryad was waiting for them, golden scales curving around as he lay stretched out on the sofa. He lifted his head lazily, regarding Mary with dark, slitted eyes.

'Mary Poppins,' he hissed, though it did not sound menacing. Something in her memory stirred at the sound of his voice – spinning round and round, her hands clasped tightly by her mother, twirling and dancing, music wrapping around her like a cloak.

She shook herself out of her reverie, curtseying to the obviously regal figure laying on the couch.

'Pleased to meet you, sir,' she said.

The Hamadryad chuckled. 'You don't remember, then?'

'Remember what?' she asked curiously.

'Come here, child,' he said, and she obeyed, kneeling in front of the sofa. He breathed on her, and suddenly a rush of memories overwhelmed her.

_It was late at night, a few minutes before midnight on her tenth birthday. She was still awake, though she was tired, head drooping slightly before she straightened up with a jerk. And then, at midnight, the clock chimed._

_Somehow she knew she had to get to the Zoo. She had never been before, but her feet guided her in her journey through the empty London streets. When she reached the Zoo, the gatekeeper was not the normal one – a bear stood in his place, small gatekeeper's cap perched on his head._

_He bowed to her, exclaiming 'Happy birthday, Miss Poppins!'_

_She grinned, stepping lightly through the gates. And then she spied the only other human there._

'_Mummy!' she yelled, and the woman turned, beaming at her._

'_Darling!' she laughed, embracing her daughter. 'Happy birthday!' Aileen said, kissing her daughter's cheek lightly._

_Mary threw her arms around her mother's waist and hugged her, hard, wanting to absorb this moment forever._

'_Sweetheart, it's time for you to meet your Cousin, the King of the Jungle,' she said._

_Mary nodded nervously. 'Is he scary, Mummy?' she asked._

_Aileen smiled. 'No, not at all, my dear!'_

_Taking her hand, she led her through the Zoo, through the throngs of animals._

'_Why are they all out of their cages tonight?' Mary wanted to know. 'And why is the Lion not attacking the Gazelle?'_

'_It's the Birthday,' the Seal who was escorting them explained._

'_Who's Birthday?' she inquired._

'_Yours, darling!' Aileen said, laughing._

_Mary's face was a study in genuine surprise and delight. 'Mine? All of this is for me?'_

'_Yes, it is,' Aileen replied. 'Come along, Mary – we mustn't keep Him waiting!'_

_Mary trotted to keep up with her mother, dodging the many animals lining the way. Her curiosity was captured by the cages where the animals were normally kept – now there were humans filling them._

'_Why are they in there?' Mary asked._

'_They are the people who stayed after the Zoo closed,' the Seal explained._

_Mary did not have a chance to watch them being fed, though she would have liked to._

'_We mustn't keep Him waiting!' Aileen said again, and finally, after a few more minutes of walking, they arrived at the Snake House._

_In the centre of the Snake House was a large golden Snake, regally presiding over the gathering._

'_Mary Poppins,' He hissed, beckoning her closer with a twitch of his tail._

_Mary curtseyed politely. 'Your Majesty.'_

'_Cousin,' He replied. 'Happy birthday.'_

'_Thank you.'_

'_I have a present for you,' he said. 'It is nothing much, but I think you will like it.'_

_With a flick of his tail, a bit of his skin slid off, forming a bracelet. She bent down to pick it up._

'_Wait a moment,' He said, picking it up again with his tail, which shone silver now. He wrote something on it with his tail before flipping it into her hands._

'_Happy Birthday,' it read in script that curved like the coils of the Hamadryad._

'_Thank you,' she whispered, slipping it onto her thin wrist. It fit perfectly, the golden scales shining in the light of the bright moon. 'Thank you so very much.'_

_Somewhere nearby someone began to play the drums, its deep, pounding beat filling the air._

_Just then, the Lion dashed in, breathing heavily. He bowed to the Hamadryad, who nodded. The Lion grabbed Mary's hand._

'_Where are we going?' she yelled, trying to catch up with him. She stumbled on a loose cobblestone, and the Lion turned, helping her up._

'_The Grand Chain, the Grand Chain!' he shouted above the beat of the drumbs, picking Mary up in his paws. Aileen followed behind, barely keeping up with them._

_When they reached the centre of the Zoo, the animals formed a ring around Mary and her mother. Aileen, with Mary once again, took her hands, beginning to spin her round as the animals made a ring around them._

'_Happy birthday, happy birthday,' the animals chanted. 'Happy birthday, happy birthday...'_

_Mary threw her head back, closing her eyes, as they continued to spin. For a moment she saw diamonds in the dark, and she felt like she was flying. The world spun dizzily and all she could feel was her mother's hands gripping hers and the dizzy, intoxicating motion of the world moving around her, for once._

_But the voices grew fainter and fainter, and when Mary opened her eyes again, the sun was streaming in through the windows of the orphanage. For a moment, she believed it had all been a dream, but on her nightstand rested the gift from the Hamadryad._


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A/N: The very last chapter! I hope you all enjoyed, and thank you to all my readers/reviewers! I really appreciate it!

Three weeks after she met the Hamadryad, she felt her Magic welling up inside her, pulling her inexorably towards some unknown location. She could feel the Wind pulling at her, trying to lift her into the air. As long as she did not have her umbrella with her, she was fine, but when she picked it up, she felt an inescapable longing to be in the air, flying.

Her lessons had finished – Aileen had taught her all she knew – and she had met her relatives, her family, friends from her childhood – all of them.

There was Uncle Albert, her kindly, genial uncle who had the tendency to float on the ceiling on his Birthday, rolling around with laughter. It was hard not to get sucked in, hard to resist the Laughing Gas that permutated the room, lighter than air, almost. And then it was hard to think of something sad, to sink back down to the drudgery of ordinary days.

There was the Man in the Moon, another one of her Uncles – she pitied him, she did, always watching life on earth, without ever taking a part of it. He was relegated to watching life from afar, collecting those things that people lost.

The Hamadryad – the King of the Jungle and certainly her most esteemed relative – was certainly the most imposing of her relatives. He possessed a regal air (naturally), though he certainly practised noblesse oblige. He was kind to all of his subjects – Mary was included in that number – and she hoped to appropriate his behaviour to use in her life.

And then friends, friends she only now remembered. There were the Corrys – Mrs. Corry, Fannie and Annie – Mrs. Corry was so full of life, so energetic and cheerful while Fannie and Annie were morose. But they were such kind people, so lovely and friendly – so unlike some of the people Mary had known during her childhood – well, what she had remembered of her childhood. Nellie-Rubina was one of her favourite newly-rediscovered friends, as were the Pleiades. So many wonderful people – she was glad that she had chosen her Magic, for these people, and her newly-remembered past, were such an essential part of her.

But she did miss Bert – she did miss what she would have had. They might have been expecting a baby by now, would most certainly be married. But then she would have been not a whole person – maimed, almost – without knowing such an essential part of herself.

And now it was time to go – well, almost. She had one more night – one more night with Bert, one last night to sleep with him, to be with him, to love him.

She locked him out of their bedroom – well, really his bedroom – while she prepared herself. It was the last night she would stay with him for quite some time, and she wanted to make it special.

Undressing carefully, she folded her dress neatly and let down her hair. She produced a comb, running it through her long, dark hair, soft waves framing the delicate oval of her face. Slipping out of her remaining undergarments, she readied herself and opened the bedroom door.

He was waiting for her, rising when she exited the bedroom.

'Mary, darling,' he whispered, nearly struck dumb by her beauty. 'Oh, Mary, my Mary...'

He folded her into his embrace, kissing her forehead softly.

'Bert,' she replied, tilting her face up for a kiss. Her eyes were filled with emotion – sadness at leaving him, anticipation of the night to come, love... He bent and kissed her, the soft blossom of her lips expanding under his.

'My darling,' he whispered, slipping his hands lower. 'Let's go to bed.'

Her eyes, trusting, looked up adoringly at him as he lifted her in his arms. 'My love, my love...' she whispered, placing gentle kisses on his face. 'Oh, my darling...'

He laid her onto the bed, beginning to undress himself. She watched him eagerly, stretching out her arms to him when he had finally discarded his clothes. Gently he lowered himself on top of her, resting his body on top of her. She embraced him fully, kissing him as she twined her arms around him.

'Oh, I love you,' he whispered, his words soon becoming incoherent as she slipped her hands lower.

She responded with a moan as his hands, his lips, worshipped every curve of her body. She had never felt more loved, more complete, than in that moment, with his hands on her body, his lips caressing the curve of her throat.

Mary rested her hands on his tanned skin, feeling the muscles of his back move as he embraced her, slipping her hands lower and lower as he moaned.

Finally he gently parted her legs, settling himself between them. She arched her back under his touch, gasping and crying out as he moved within her.

'God, I love you, I love you,' he groaned.

'Bert...' she drew out his name, her mellifluous voice lingering on each letter. 'Oh, Bert...'

'Mary,' he sighed, falling on top of her. 'Mary, Mary, Mary.'

She wrapped her arms tightly around him, clutching him almost desperately. As he made to roll back against the pillows, she held on, rolling with him.

Comfortably ensconced against him, her body resting against his, she slept.

***

They woke up early the next morning, anxious to spend as much time as they could together before she would have to leave. He tried to prolong her departure as long as possible, but finally, after breakfast, they could delay no longer.

Her new carpetbag clutched in her hand, she dropped it again as she threw her arms around him, kissing him desperately.

'I love you, Bert,' she whispered. 'I love you so much.'

'I love you, Mary,' he replied, wiping away her tears. 'Don't worry, love – it will be all right.'

She pressed another tender kiss to his lips, tears streaming down her face still. Finally they broke apart, and Mary once again picked up her carpetbag and Archibald, her parrot-headed umbrella. Bert walked ahead of her, opening the front door. She stepped outside, opening the umbrella. The Wind rushed around her, lifting her up higher and higher. She watched Bert until she could no longer see him.

'I love you, Mary Poppins,' Bert whispered, watching as her small figure vanished.

In the air, Mary gave a trembling smile. 'I love you too, Bert.'

END.


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